Elizabeth Davies: Dads show love differently

It’s only been a month since Mother’s Day, when I swore a pedicure and a morning to sleep in was the best gift I could possibly get.

Elizabeth Davies

It’s only been a month since Mother’s Day, when I swore a pedicure and a morning to sleep in was the best gift I could possibly get.

So I felt a tad guilty when I asked my husband how he wanted to spend Father’s Day and he said, “doing something fun with the kids.”

Ironic, perhaps, how fathers want to spend their special day with their children and mothers want to spend it away from them.

That’s possibly a reflection of life as an at-home mom versus a dad who puts in a lot of hours at work. For mom, it’s a lost luxury to shower without an audience. For dad, bedtime snuggles are the best part of his day.

This morning, I woke before the kids and spent a full 15 minutes in bed, doing nothing but watching my pregnant belly move and shift with the kicks coming from within. It’s precisely what I tell first-time moms to do before the baby comes: Don’t get out of bed when you wake up. Spend a few minutes there. Enjoy the quiet. That won’t happen again for a long, long time.

Indeed, I cherished those moments alone, knowing that in a few months, I’ll already be halfway to the baby’s room when I wake up. Moms manage to react subconsciously to a baby’s cry, propelling forward before our eyes actually open.

Dads swear that they don’t hear baby cries. I can hardly believe that’s the case, since I’m pretty sure the neighbor two doors down gets woken by those shrill cries. Still, his breathing doesn’t miss a beat in the night when the wails begin.

But whether dads jump up for midnight feedings or change their share of dirty diapers or can recite “Good Night Moon” from memory, one thing holds true: A dad’s capacity for loving his child is no less than the mother’s.

Dads show it differently. They wrestle instead of cuddle; discipline instead of coddle. They teach with a kind of patience that a frazzled mother struggles to find.

And when a dad is with his child, he is fully there. Like the multi-taskers we are, moms have the tendency to fold laundry while singing songs, or to make dinner while doling out Play-Doh.

Dads tend to be all-in. They give piggyback rides and climb inside the blanket fort on top of the couch. They even play hide-and-seek for more than one round.

Dads manage to have the energy to follow up a full day of work with rambunctious play with the kiddos. (Must be all that sleep they’re getting at night.)

Dads talk less but are heard more. They make each moment count, because they see their children growing before their very eyes.

Indeed, fatherhood is a gift. Far too often in our society, it isn’t regarded at a very high price. It’s a job left to someone else, by a father who can’t bring himself to sacrifice a piece of himself for his child.

But for those who truly unwrap fatherhood, there are precious little souls waiting inside.